The Works of Heather S.

Month: January 2015

It’s a habit I have learned over the years. I can’t even blame it on my ex. I am a long time worrier from waaaay back.

I worry about small things, like when I am going to find time to clean the house or if I should try and wear makeup again now that I have time in the mornings to put it on.

I worry about big things too, like weather or not I am a good person (whatever that means) and what I want to do with my life and will I ever have a career that will fully support me?

I worry about not getting in enough time to focus on my spiritual habits to build relationships with the entities I work with. I worry about not celebrating the High Holy Days as often as I used to.

My worries turn into anxiety. Anxiety has a way of ruining my day in big ways. Proving that I need to worry less about the small stuff and focus my time and energy into just being alive. I have a fantastic life and to have all of these worries pile up until they spill over and ruin my day is a bit silly when you take the time to look at the big picture. I am happy! I have a loving husband and a great home and a job that is still in my field despite the injury that is keeping me from doing massage full time. I can still enjoy my beads and create works of beauty for my family and friends. I have great hobbies that I can share with my husband that allows me to meet new and interesting people and craft some fun items.

It’s true, I worry too much. It is a habit that I really need to get out of.

This is not really much of a short story, it is more of an emotional dump after a really intense Role Play session. There is not nearly enough background established, the characters aren’t fleshed out at ALL and it’s barely edited.

I don’t know if anyone other than myself will be interested in reading it, but I needed to write it to keep track in my own mind of what happened. So I figured I would share it here as well, just in case other folks are interested.

I am trying to protect my family. I am also trying not to kill the asshole who broke into my house, however in this kindness, I end up just torturing him for an hour to keep him down and I end up feeling really bad about it. He is relentless, he does not stop striving to do damage to those I care about no matter how many wounds I give him. I end up killing him anyway. It is the only way to stop him. My blade is dull and I waste precious seconds trying to find one that is sharp while he looms ever closer to those I hold dear. His death is messy and needlessly painful.

This is not an auspicious omen.

Lesson learned #1: I really need to sharpen my knives.
Lesson learned #2: Bad dreams on the first of the year do not have to be bad omens for the rest of the year but they sure do start the day like shit.

At he urging of one of my friends I looked up information from Clarissa Pinkola Estes regarding ‘bad man’ dreams. She has written a book that I did not immediately have access to, but I found this blog post that gives me the gist of her work. Enough for understanding to dawn on me.

From Christina Lay of Shadowspinners:” The Dark Man is no stranger at all. He is a force from within, a manifestation of our animus (Jung‘s term for the masculine part of a woman’s personality) gone horrible awry. The part of us that seeks to act out in the world has been locked up, for whatever reason, and essentially, is damaged by our neglect.

This holiday season has been flooded with illness. The last two months has seen no less than two bouts of sickness that has forced me to slow down and put off things I had hoped to complete. Even as I write this I am recovering from the flu that has swept the country so viciously this year. I have put off doing so much it is no wonder my mind has sent yet another reminder that my creative time is not a suggestion, but a requirement of my existence.

I tell myself I do not have time, but that is a lie. I do not have the motivation to set aside time. I wish instead to be lazy to focus on idle hobbies rather than things that challenge me, things that keep me on my creative toes.

Even my writing has become stale, my beads unorganized and uninspired.

I can do better. Even my subconscious knows this. It also knows that every so often I need to be reminded of this fact. I wish to be happy with who I am, which means I need to be a person I can be happy with. I have hopes and dreams and while I accept that I may never truly achieve all that I have set out to do in this life, it would be a poor choice to do nothing at all.

I will never truly be happy unless I am creating. Something. Anything. So it is time to begin creating again. It is not just what I do, it is who I am. It is who I wish to be.

It will be a slow process, and evolving process and yes, I will falter in my steps, but when the dreams return to tell me I have stumbled on my path, I will know what they mean and will thank them for the reminder.